Biomedic's Log
by Sorceress Nadira
Summary: There's always work awaiting a medic on the Normandy. Backstage story of the events of ME2 with some future turian romance. / Featuring large amounts of OC, custom Jake Shepard and badly linked comics on deviantArt. / Rated M for some Jack's language.
1. Entry 1

**_A/N_**

**_Now beta'ed, thanks to great effort of the lovely DeliriumGothique!  
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**_BioWare owns everything except doctor Johannsen. (And I apologise for nothing).  
_**

**_Check the first comic entry on my dA page (accessible via my profile).  
_**

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Entry 1

_…certain advantages of being a fragile, blonde-haired girl…_

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The tables in the med bay are sterile-white, clean and untouched. They have never been used; SR-2 Normandy has just been completed, anyway. I cannot resist as I trace my fingers along their cold, smooth surface. The air is filled with the smell of sterilizer and novelty. I like that smell. Reminds me of the newly built laboratories back in Grissom Academy - before they were used and spoiled by my fellow peers. I smile unconsciously to that memory, then freeze when the door to the med bay is opened with that subtle, sizzling sound.

I wipe the smile off my face, putting on an expression of eagerness. Because the person entering the bay is my superior, Chief Medical Officer of the Normandy - Doctor Karin Chakwas. She eyes me from the top of my hair to the ends of my working shoes. I cannot shake off the uncomfortable feeling that she doesn't like me being here. As far as I could find out, she used to run the med bay on her own. Ever since the first Normandy had been built and until it had been destroyed.

The reports I've read, mentioned the size of the bay used to be half the size of what it is now and this was probably the reason why the Illusive Man decided it should be now handled by two people. Originally though, it wasn't supposed to be me. Maybe Doctor Chakwas was expecting to put someone she knew in this position, but she was handed me instead. I can perfectly sympathize with her, if that is the case. Still, I am determined to make her like me or, if that is not possible, at least appreciate my presence in the med bay. I turn to face her and greet her with a nod.

'Doctor Chakwas,' I say and she nods her head towards me in response.

'I see you're making yourself comfortable in the new surroundings,' she remarks, narrowing her eyes just a little bit.

'Yes Doctor, I admire the design of this place. It is elegant and yet the space is used in an economical manner. The way the beds and implements are arranged will make it easier to gain access to them while treating patients with minimum time loss.'

She nods again.

'It is a beautiful place indeed,' she says thoughtfully and takes a look around the area, as if seeing it for the first time. I know it is not true, though. When I arrived to the Normandy this morning, dragging my bag and hydroponics containers along the landing zone, she had already been here. Overseeing some Cerberus operatives; who were carrying crates with supplies to the med bay. Seeing her busy, I decided to skip the "making-myself-at-home" part and just loaded my bag on the bunk bed I was assigned, changed my clothes to the official crewman outfit and reported to the bay. That seemed to have earned me a few Brownie points.

It takes doctor Chakwas a few minutes, before she shakes off the melancholy and glances at me with a distant smile.

'The Commander is holding a briefing in the Communications Room in a few minutes. Actually, I have come to pick you up, Danielle.' she declares and I cannot help but smile at her. She knows Commander Jake Shepard, of course, but I've only read the dossiers and news reports on him. I cannot wait to meet him in person. 'We shouldn't be late for that. Shall we?'

I follow her up the elevator, where we are joined by Miranda Lawson, the Chief Officer of the Normandy and the Illusive Man's right hand in this operation. Her eyes narrow a little bit when she glances at me, but I pretend I never saw it. I know she has been the person most against me joining this operation and I cannot say I do not understand her reasons. There are certain… limits and maybe even risks that my presence here might pose. I cannot even begin to imagine what the consequences could have been if I had another mental breakdown, suddenly breaking a surgery or something, so I quickly push that thought away. I have promised to keep myself under strict control and supervision of Normandy's psychiatric and I intend to keep that promise. No matter what.

The Com Room is already filled with people chatting with hushed voices. Judging by their numbers, I am looking at all of the Normandy's skeleton crew that could leave their posts without risking some system malfunction. Suddenly, I am kind of glad this ship seems to be understaffed. A few more men and it would be hard to breathe.

I follow Miranda and Doctor Chakwas, who take their seats at the communications table. Being just a Junior Medical Officer I don't get one, of course. But since the room is mostly full of young human men, I get the best viewing spot anyway. There are certain advantages of being a fragile, blonde-haired girl in the room full of polite and tall young soldiers. They let me through almost automatically and smile back when I murmur 'Thank yous' with every step. I take my place behind doctor Chakwas' chair and for a moment feel the attention concentrating around my waist-long braided hair. I'm used to that. In society where the blonde hair gene has been almost extinguished by the dominant dark one, I'm a rarity. I notice a few women glaring at me with hints of envy and I smile to them apologetically. It works – it usually does. Mother Nature has gifted me with not only the rarest hair colour, but also with the biggest, bluest and most innocent doe eyes in the Galaxy. It's amazing what a well-aimed look can achieve among people that see me for the first time. There is no denying the fact we, humans, are a race that does a lot of unconscious judging by appearance only.

I cannot express enough how frustrating that is for me. Ever since I got enlisted in Grissom and I left the colony on Demeter, how I have been judged by my looks rather than by my skills. I cannot remember when the last time was, where I didn't have to start a discussion just to be allowed to do something by myself... Usually a few quarrels like that were enough to earn me some surprised respect, but sometimes it took time, before new people adapted to the fact that the doe-eyed girl can do something more than just stand over there and look pretty.

I skip those musings immediately when Jake Shepard enters the room. He is everything I have imagined he would be and much more. I cannot take my eyes off him – I scan his strong jaw, short black hair, his well-built silhouette and odd, unnatural scars on his face. As I recall the dossier, where some details of the Lazarus project were mentioned, I realise what I'm looking at. Those are the signs of unfinished and hastily interrupted skin regeneration process that had been artificially induced by Cerberus when the Commander's body was recovered, almost two years ago. The person I am staring at is supposedly - or rather was supposed to be - dead and against all odds, he's standing only a few feet from me - tall, handsome and charismatic.

I suddenly realise I might be nursing some sort of a crush on the Commander and I lower my head to hide a spreading blush. I intently stare at the table when Jake Shepard starts to speak. Even his voice is as amazing as his whole self: low and pleasant to the ear. It's a little difficult to accept the fact I find him extremely attractive. It never ends well in professional relationships.

I try to listen to what he is saying instead – he welcomes us upon the Normandy, he expresses his belief that we will work together to solve the mystery of the disappearing colonists, that we will face the enemy united and defeat them. He mentions that he has never expected to work for the Cerberus, but then he quickly adds he cannot wait to see what all people gathered here have to offer on this mission. I get a little nervous when he gets to that part. I am still not sure if I am the right person to be on this ship.

The short speech ends with the appointing of Miranda Lawson as Shepard's second-in-command, reminding everyone that she will be handling the Normandy and all the issues between crewmen in his absence. Then the Commander thanks us all for coming and after a brief pause people are starting to move out of the room. I want to follow but Miranda gestures me over.

'The Commander wants to speak with you, Johannsen.'

Okay, so this is it. The moment that will decide whether I get fired before we depart or shortly after.

I turn to face Shepard and try my most innocent smile with him. It's hard to say if it's working. The Commander returns it, but his eyes are scanning me with both interest and slight doubt. We wait until the last person – who happens to be Miss Lawson – exits the room and he starts speaking.

'Miss Danielle Johannsen, right? After what Miranda has said, I expected you to be a bit older.'

There we go.

'I am currently twenty one years, nine months and twenty-three days old, counting with the standard Earth time, Commander,' I say. 'I know I look a bit younger than that, but…'

'No, not what I meant,' he gives me a slightly wider grin than before. 'Miranda said you are pretty accomplished for someone so young.'

I wonder where I should go with that. It's possible that my dossier, or whatever it is that Shepard gets on all of his crewmen, consists of all that I've been doing since I was twelve, which was the age I got enlisted at Grissom's as one of their first students. It's true that I have always been somewhat capable, learning fast and graduating even faster and it was also true that the moment I left Grissom's protective walls, I've been hired by the New Dawn Pharmaceuticals to work on further development of a very specific type of biotic implant. I wouldn't call myself "accomplished". Granted, I had some knowledge in certain areas; Medicine, Microbiology, Xenobiology and few other 'Ologies', but it was just me having nice brain function that was accordingly a "little" enhanced by my implant.

'I am doing my best, Commander.'

'Oh, I don't doubt it! Miranda mentioned you have very specific biotic skills, right?'

'Indeed, Commander. My implant allows me to create very small and detailed mass effect fields, that I am then able to keep up for an hour or so, depending on their size and level of complication. I use this in my medical practice.' I can hardly deny the fact I really like talking about it.

'Tell me more, how did you get that implant?' His face shows genuine curiosity and I begin to wonder whether he have ever read any dossier or whatnot on me.

'The New Dawn Pharmaceuticals Company had approached Grissom about the time I have arrived there and they had been searching for biotics, who had shown specific interest in medicine,' I began. 'You can imagine how difficult it is to find a teenager with an interest like this, Commander. They considered it sheer luck that I decided to volunteer for the project.'

'Were there any risks involved? Have they informed you about them?'

I hesitate. I really, really doubt that he knows my files now, but how can that be possible? He should have… he must have read them! If so, is this some sort of test? I panic and I completely break out.

'Commander, I know they say I'm crazy, but that's not the case! I admit, the implant is occasionally interfering with my hormone activity and that does sometimes end up with severe depressions, but I keep it under control! I take my meds, I visit my psychotherapist and the Illusive Man said I am allowed to participate in the mission…' I slow down, seeing the confusion on his face.

'Wait, what?'

'I… Commander, isn't that in my files or something?' I ask and he shrugs me off a little too casually.

'Oh, I never read them; it's so much better to find out about people by actually talking to them. Besides, I find it rude to be digging things on them behind their backs.' He smiles, but then his expression gets solemn again. 'So what was that about your depressions again?'

I sigh. I cannot believe he didn't know before. It is just… I don't… I feel so silly! Out of so many possible ways of handing this, thing, to my supervisor, I have probably chosen the worst.

'You are a biotic yourself, Commander, you realise there are certain… downsides of using the implants,' I say a bit resigned. Whatever I say now probably won't make it worse than it already is. 'The one I'm using is basically a prototype. When they placed it in my brain, no one really knew if it was going to work as intended. Turns out it allows me to control my biotic abilities in a ways no other biotic can, but it also gives me depressive bouts. It has to do with hormone secretion. Also, the placement of the implant makes it interfering with my brain activity. I have almost a photographic memory. And before you ask, yes, I have been informed about the risks from the beginning. So have my parents. The expectations were far worse than the reality is, to be honest.'

'New Dawn Pharmaceuticals, right?' He ensures, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. I nod. 'When did you learn that they're Cerberus funded?'

I hesitate. In fact it hasn't been that long ago. The moment my candidacy was ensured for the Normandy mission, I have been told that there are people far more influential beyond the board of directors of the corporation. All of a sudden, I have been called to a meeting where instead of talking to a real person; I was introduced to a holographic image of the most secluded and probably most influential human in the Galaxy – the leader of the Cerberus group - the Illusive Man. It was probably the weirdest and most stressful interview in my whole life… But in the end I was not much surprised. Companies as big as New Dawn must have been involved in politics, far more complicated than I've ever cared to pay interest in. Realisation of that fact was still a little creepy, as if during all those years my life was supervised by the company, I was steered and controlled. I tell Shepard this and his brow furrows.

'What do you think about Cerberus, Danielle? Honestly.'

'I- I'm not really sure, Commander,' I confess. 'Recently I've heard rumours about… things, they've supposedly done. All those forbidden operations and experiments, it sounds horrible. But then again, I've never received anything but generosity from the company. Perhaps I'm too much of investment to them, to be treated badly.'

'That might be it,' he smiles at me, but then gets all solemn again. 'Cerberus stands for humanity first and doesn't really like cooperating with alien races. How about you? I admit it would be problematic having a doctor who doesn't want to treat aliens out of principle.'

'Oh, you have nothing to worry about, Commander! If you had checked my files, you'd know I was the top of my class in Xenobiology. I might not have had much practice, that's true, but my theoretical knowledge should be enough to face the challenge.'

'And those depressions you mentioned… how bad are they?'

Maybe it's just a wishful thinking, but I seem to sense some sympathy in his voice.

'It depends. Usually I just feel bad about the world, I take a couple pills and it passes. Sometimes I stay in my room for a day or two. It has a lot to do with the events going on around me, really.'

'How does a suicidal mission makes you feel then?'

I hesitate and then I realise he's winking at me. I cannot believe he's actually trying to joke about it, but it does make me feel a little better. Besides, Jake Shepard winking is a sight to treasure.

'Thrilled, Commander. Positively thrilled.'

He pats me on the shoulder with a good-natured grin on his face.

'I'm sure you're going to do just fine, Danielle. I lied about that dossier a little. I did read your awesome credentials. One of your previous supervisors, Doctor Cooper, claims that you concentrate best under stress and, well, that's one thing we're definitely going to have in abundance on this ship.'

Doctor Cooper, that dear old man. He was a head surgeon in the Alliance Fleet Field Hospital four years ago, when I was undergoing my medical practices there. We got to understand one another really fast and I really enjoyed working with him. He was probably the first person to call me a "Biomedic" too. After that the name just started to appear in my files as my "official working title".

'I'll do my best, sir!' I assure Shepard.

'Just "Shepard" or "Commander", if you really have to. You're not a military personnel after all.'

'Yes, Shepard… Commander, I mean.' I know I'm blushing, oh, goodness, I am blushing.

'Remember you can always come and talk to me if anything goes wrong, understood? Great. Carry on, then!'

Before I run out of the Com room, flustered and blushing like some English rose, I realise, with a slight pleasure, that he was calling me by my first name.

Oh well, he probably does that with every girl on the ship…


	2. Entry 2

_Great thanks go to **DeliriumGothique** for her hard work on beta-ing this chapter and for all the support! Also, I wanted to thank **Nika**, without whom comics would never be possible, and my boyfriend, just for being there._

_BioWare owns everything, I have no regrets, and You should go and check the comic for this chapter on in my dA gallery! (links in profile).  
_

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Entry 2

…_I am a doctor and someone needs me. I cannot fail them…_

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I still have no idea how Jeff Moreau figured out he can call me "Dany" instead of using my full name. As far as I remember, the only people who called me that were my parents and siblings back on Demeter; all those years ago before I got enlisted in Grissom. Every time I am on the bridge and he calls me that, it brings back old memories of home.

Maybe that is the reason why I am stalling, engaging myself in an idle talk before I go back to the med bay and start refreshing my knowledge on salarian anatomy, all over again.

Jeff seems to like my company – or at least that is what I hope. In the previous week he did not do anything to kick me out from the bridge even though I lingered longer than delivering his medications would require. I took over the "privilege" to bring them to him every two days from Doctor Chakwas. She seemed rather pleased that I was going to remember about it for the both of them. Apparently, Jeff's intentional forgetfulness in this area has been some sort of an issue between the two.

'I'm telling you, Dany, almost eight million people live in this place!'

'That cannot be possible,' I say even though I believe him. I was here when the Normandy docked on the Omega station and so I caught a glimpse of the gigantic structure when we were approaching. It certainly did look big enough to house that many inhabitants, but… 'They would have to be quite crowded…'

'I'm not saying they're not,' Jeff shrugs my scepticism off. 'Think about quarians. They live in a crowded space!'

I nod in agreement. They say there are fifty thousand ships in the Flotilla and that they house seventeen million quarians. I can hardly imagine such a large number of people, let alone try and think how they would fit on such a limited number of ships… I keep those wonderings to myself, seeing that Jeff is now occupied with some work I do not fully understand. I figure out it is best not to interrupt him.

We sit a minute or two in silence, while he moves some windows around the main screen in front of him. I watch him do that absent-mindedly, my thoughts already circulating around the equipment in the med bay. Few hours ago Shepard took Miranda and Jacob on the Omega to find a salarian scientist, who is apparently running a clinic in some deepest and most dangerous levels of the station. I certainly don't wish anything to happen to any of them, but I do a memory re-run through the med bay's supplies just in case. We are pretty well stocked - the Illusive Man apparently doesn't care about costs of his investments - and I allowed myself to pack some of the most basic items in my handbag. I run through its content and realise Joker is looking at me.

'Those don't seem like my usual meds,' he notes, tilting his head to the side.

'Because they are not,' I start, before I realise I should have bitten my tongue instead. A little unnerved, I decide to continue. 'Look, I just thought... Imagine what would happen if you got an urgent call from the Commander, demanding immediate medical help on the Omega. At least I am packed for that!'

'You're so eager to go on a field mission, Dany?' He teases and I shrug in response. I am far from eager. In fact, the mere thought of stepping on the ground of Omega makes me want to hide under the bed and pull the blanket over my head. From all I have heard that place is full of mercs, bandits and killers of all races, that wouldn't think twice before they fire a round or two into your back for some twisted reasons of their own. The thought makes me shiver, so I try to concentrate on the contents of my bag. Three packs of medi-gel, standard human type. Three injection shots of sedatives and three of mild painkillers, also human type. One pack of medi-gel, standard universal levo-amino type - one of three that were in the storage. I couldn't find any of the dextro-amino types, not to mention any pack specific to any of the alien races of the Galaxy. I make a mental note to request an adequate resupplying in that area from Shepard. I am merely halfway done with my examination, when the communication panel on Joker's window starts to flash with a green light.

'Normandy to the ground team,' he says, opening the com link. 'What's your status?'

In response we get a terrible mess of static, gunshots and Jacob screaming something difficult to understand. I pick up maybe one word in every five, but the message is obvious to me in a flash. The status is bad, very bad.

'Ground team, I can hardly hear you! Dammit, Taylor, what the hell is going on?' Joker yells to the com, as if that was supposed to help clear the transmission.

'The hell is going on!' Jacob yells back, surprisingly clear this time. 'We got a turian casualty, we need a shuttle sent to these co-ordinates right now!'

I spring to my feet, feeling my heart speeding up to a very unhealthy pace.

'Tell them I will join the shuttle crew and help,' I say to Joker and he nods, waving me away. Without another word I turn around and run through the CIC deck towards the elevator, barely avoiding bumping into people as I pass. I catch my breath as the elevator takes me down to the shuttle bay and I stare at control panel, hoping it could run faster. I realise the low hum I hear in my ears is my own blood, rushing through the organism in an adrenaline hype. I take the time to draw two deep breaths and try to calm myself.

I am a coward. I have always been one. But there is that one, miraculous thing that can make me focus and fight my panic off. I am a doctor and someone needs me. I cannot fail them.

When I get off the elevator, the shuttle team is already there, waiting. One of the soldiers - Thomas, I think, waves at me to hurry then pulls me inside the vehicle. We take off before I have a chance to sit and he catches me before I fall.

'Careful, Miss,' he warns and then gently puts me on the seat. 'We have Commander Shepard on com.'

Someone hands me the datapad and in this one horrible second I realise they are going to look after me, because I am an assigned medic on her way to a very wounded patient, which makes me a very important person.

And a person that is very much required to succeed.

'Commander, this is Johannsen here,' I say to the datapad and I am surprised by how steady and sure my voice sounds - even though my throat is so painfully dry. 'What is the status of the injured party?'

'Heavily bleeding,' Shepard's voice is cracking and almost unclear with all the static. 'He got hit by a gunship rocket... half of his face is a mess and there are several bullet wounds to the torso.'

I feel my heart stopping to a halt at that. Oh, goodness. Don't they always say the first case is going to be your worst?

'Have you used medi-gel?' I ask.

'Not yet, we're just trying to shell him out of his armour...'

'Then don't! It's just going to make things worse. Take his armour off and press the wounds to slow down the bleeding.'

Shepard fells silent and for a few heartbeats I pray that he is going to listen to me - probably against his own better judgment.

'You sure about that, Johannsen?' He asks finally and I dare to take a breath again.

'Yes.' I sure hope that I am. But levo-amino designed medi-gel in a dextro-amino organism's bloodstream seems more deadly to me than the blood loss. 'We will be there in...' I look at the soldier next to me and he puts three fingers up. '...in three minutes. Hold on.'

'You better. Shepard out.'

Three minutes seem like aeons. I try not to think of the consequences if the turian bleeds out to a sorry death and instead try to concentrate on the details of the turian anatomy I still remember. I wish I had done that earlier, but, heck, weren't they supposed to be looking for a salarian instead?

The shuttle lands with a slight tremor and I am up and out with the soldiers without thinking. We have landed on a very damaged terrace - gunshots chipped the metal balustrades in many places and bits of it are smoking, probably from grenades. Miranda Lawson is waiting for us near the entrance to the rest of the building.

'Inside!' She shouts and gestures me to follow her. I walk fast, realising my fingers are painfully clasped around the strap of my bag and I release them carefully. I must be calm - I think, trying to ignore the intensive smell of blood and sharp odour of discarded thermal clips. I must be concentrated on the task at hand. I run into the room and immediately notice Shepard, leaning over a figure sprawled on the floor in a quickly spreading pool of deep blue blood. I freeze and for a fraction of a second all I can think of are cornflowers, blue on the canvas of golden fields on Demeter. It is the same colour. I could swear it is the same colour.

I shake it off and run, landing on my knees next to the turian. I wince at the impact, but quickly forget about the pain. His face is indeed a mess of blood and scraps of badly burned skin, but it's his arm and neck that are bothering me - grey skin and plates turned into an ultramarine splatter. I close my eyes just for one moment and I recall the page forty-seven of my "Turian Anatomy Atlas", trying to remember how exactly the veins, arteries, muscles and tendons are intertwined. There. I open my eyes again, place my right hand on a bit of undamaged tissue and charge myself up.

Mass effect fields immediately flash around my fingers and I direct them, forming them into tubes and capillaries, putting them where veins should be and connecting severed arteries. I can hear Shepard gasp over my shoulder, but I cannot afford myself a second to look at him. Discharges tingle at my fingertips and I bite my lip to withstand it and not let my fingers twitch, not yet. Net of blue, glowing pipes quickly covers the arm and right side of the turian's neck, then it unveils lower to cover all the holes that bullets have made in his torso. I allow myself to utter a gasp and try to speak. It takes me two failed attempts to get it right.

'Medi-gel, please,' I whisper and my voice sounds very weak in my own ears.

'But you said...' starts Jacob, who has materialised on the left side of the turian some time ago, but he is immediately silenced by Shepard.

'Do what she says,' he commands in an adamant voice and for a second I feel a wave of admiration and gratitude flowing through my body.

'Over the fields,' I say and the song of that title starts playing in my head. I push it away. Focus, Danielle. 'And over my hand. Just cover it all.'

Either I am already hallucinating or it's my wishful thinking, but the puddle of blood doesn't seem to be growing anymore. I realise my clothes are wet, soaked with the ultramarine liquid to the very fibre, and I mildly start wondering whether I will get an allergy rash from that or not. I blink. I need to stay tuned. I know I can hold up a biotic field for hours, I have done that before.

Just never this big or this complicated.

Suddenly I feel the turian's arm twitching under my right palm and his eyelids fling open. He utters a muffled screech and tries to say something, but ends up coughing. I push him down when he tries to move and catch his other shoulder with my left hand.

'Easy,' I say as loud as I can and his eyes focus on my face. I recognise the look. I haven't seen it that many times, luckily, but it is enough to see it once to remember it forever. Help me - plead those eyes. I don't want to die yet. 'It is going to be all right,' I say as calmly as I can, hoping his translator was not damaged in the blast. 'I will not let you die.'

'Garrus, buddy, hang in there!' Shepard leans over my shoulder. 'We're getting you out of here!'

The turian relaxes a little and I swear he would have tried to smile, if his face wasn't as shredded as it is. I realise his name should mean something to me, but I forget about it immediately. Later. Now I need to concentrate on those fields. They are still holding. I am still holding them, I am.

'Injection shots in my bag,' I manage to whisper. 'White with sedative. Green with stimulants. Now.'

It's surprising how fast the shots are delivered. I must look very determined. I stop Shepard with the wave of my hand before he uses the stimulants on the turian.

'This one is for me,' I say quietly. 'Back of the neck. Please.'

The sting of pain is brief, but I cannot help the twitching. I will never get used to those, I think. It takes only a few heartbeats for the stimulants to dose my system with new energy and clear my head a little bit. I take a deep breath.

'Stretcher, please,' people around me move in blurs, but I see when they put it on the floor, next to the turian. 'Miss Lawson, may I ask for one bigger biotic field to lift him up? But carefully, I mustn't loose contact with him.'

The turian, Garrus, my brain reminds me, is gently lifted and then put down on the stretcher that someone pushed underneath him. Another someone, I guess Shepard, tries to put me aside.

'No,' I protest. 'I must not loose the contact. Fields will collapse.'

I hear an argument going on close to me, but I cannot understand a word through the mist that is covering my brain. Suddenly I am being lifted and seated sideways on the stretcher. I think we are being carried back to the shuttle because the rocking sensation makes me dizzy. I know I need another shot really soon. I try to say that out loud and a face framed in obsidian black hair appears in front of me. For a second I can only ponder on how perfectly beautiful it is, before I realise I am facing Miranda and she is talking to me.

'There was just one shot in the bag, Johannsen.' She seems genuinely worried, but whether that is for my sake or the turian's or whoever else's, I cannot say.

'Well then. We should hurry,' I try not to think about it right now. Granted, I once kept a small net of tube fields during a knee surgery for two hours, but that was a walk in the park compared to the amount of energy I require to generate this gigantic protective web over the turian's body right now. I blink, because the world seems to be getting slightly pink. Distant vibrations inform me that the shuttle has just taken off. 'Please, I need Doctor Chakwas on com. Please.'

'We've already updated her.' It is Shepard; he is standing right next to me, his fingers clasped around my arm in a reassuring gesture. It is making me feel very warm inside and it is helping. It really is. Especially because I can taste something metallic and salty on my lips and I know my nose started to bleed. I reach towards it with my left hand and someone passes me a piece of white cloth. A bandage, perhaps. I press it to my nose and rise my head up.

'He is going to need surgical hearing implants,' I say stubbornly through the material. I have to tell them this while I am still thinking quite clearly; I need Doctor Chakwas to be prepared for the surgery in case… No. There is not going to be any case - I need to stay focused and the best way is to concentrate on the task at hand. On the turian under my palm and web of biotic fields. I can feel his heartbeat, slow, but stable. For now.

'Miranda, pass that on to Chakwas. Johannsen? Danielle, look at me.'

I look into Shepard's eyes, brightly blue and obviously concerned.

'Are you all right? How long can you keep that up?' He gestures to the light surrounding my hand.

'You will see when I pass out,' I try to joke and he gives me a weak smile.

'You can do it, Danielle,' he assures me and his grip on my arm gets tighter for a short moment. 'Just don't overdo yourself. We need you on this team.'

We need you on this team, he says. He needs me on his team.

Then I will prove it to him, I will prove that I have been hired not for my looks and not because of those blue, doe eyes. But because I can do what I claim I can do, I will keep up those fields, I will cling to this turian's arm even if that means I will collapse in the med bay senseless. I can do it. I can still see those biotic tubes and capillaries; I can feel the blood rushing down the net I have created. And I can feel that heartbeat. I can hear it in my ears.

No, wait. The second one is probably mine.

World goes hazy around me and all of a sudden a face of an older woman appears in front of me with a worried frown painted all over, then there is the sting of pain on the back of my neck and familiar, irritating surge of energy flowing down my veins. In a minute my surroundings get clear again and this time it is the med bay, with all its surgical cleanliness and precision. I recognise the older woman as Doctor Chakwas. She pats my arm reassuringly and issues orders I still cannot hear clearly. A moment later, I find myself standing - no, barely standing, someone has to hold me up - near one of the beds. Miranda's biotic field is putting the turian on it and I feel someone is moving my right hand, fingers still tightly closed around the turian's arm, along with it.

'Danielle, can you hear me?' That's Doctor Chakwas' voice. I turn my head to look at her and even that movement causes my vision to blur like crazy. 'Can you stand on your own?'

'Yes, I think so.'

I feel the arm of that someone behind me releasing me and I discover I can stand straight without support. It is an amazing feeling.

'Shepard, you can now get out of here. All of you get out. Doctor Johannsen and I will handle it from here.'

So, it was Shepard. He tries to say something, but Doctor Chakwas just gestures him out of the med bay, then she touches the control panel of our windows that separate us from the mess and rest of the ship. They shimmer and immediately lose all transparency. Now we are cosily shut off from the rest of the Normandy, just awesome Doctor Karin, a seriously wounded turian and I.

His name is Garrus. It dawns on me where I remember his name from. Garrus Vakarian, the turian who helped Shepard to stop Saren.

'EDI, I need all systems up and running flawlessly, we've been through the drill.' Doctor Chakwas is back on my right side, gently pushing me a step away so she could reach the turian. 'Danielle, how long can you keep that up? You've been doing awesome work so far.'

'With those shots I can keep up for hours,' I assure her, even though I can hear that distant thump of my own heart in my ears. I know I can do that. She smiles at me.

'Let's hope I can work it out quicker than that. Move to the left a little, I need some space.'

'I mustn't...'

'...loose the contact. I know, I've read your files. We can do it, just remember to tell me when you feel like getting another shot, all right?'

I nod and she begins to work with a steady, surgical certainty I so much admired in my teachers all those aeons ago at Grissom's. Under her hands the gunshots are patched up, the severed arteries are being sewn back; scraps of damaged skin are pieced together like very messy and very organic puzzle. I retract my fields inch by inch until all the protection they provided is no longer needed. Doctor Chakwas wipes the last smears of blue blood from our patient and takes a step back to give her work a scrutinising look. The left side of the turian's face is now covered with long and precise stitches and patches of synthetic skin, applied to enhance the regeneration process. Delicate blue shine indicates where hearing implant has been installed. It will take a few months before the skin and flesh would be reconstructed enough to hide it, so for the time being Doctor Chakwas covers the damaged area with the IWDS bandage – we were equipped with only a few of them, probably due to their cost. Cybernetic-laid fabric adjusts itself to the shape of the turian's face, clinging to it so tightly it almost looks like a part of his body.

'Well, we couldn't do better in these circumstances,' she says and I can hear fatigue in her voice. 'Great job on keeping the medi-gel from his bloodstream, by the way. I hate the way those things come in conflict with dextro-amino physiology and with injuries that severe…'

I nod and try out a very weary smile. At least I hope it is a smile. Most likely it is just a painful spasm on my face.

'Goodness, girl, you need to go and get some sleep,' Doctor Chakwas chides me in a surprisingly friendly way. 'He's not going anywhere for the next couple hours at least. I can keep an eye on him and you can get some rest.'

'I need my dinner first,' I say resolutely. 'And supper. And probably a few meals up front too. I guess I am going to use up my calories for the next couple of days right now…'

She smiles at me with understanding. Biotics are always assigned higher calorie ratios than other crewmen, but that crazy thing I have just performed is going to require more than one meal. I can hardly believe I keep on standing here, not to mention I am still thinking more or less clearly. I am starting to suspect that I just don't remember some of the shots Doctor Chakwas gave me.

But I did it. I cannot believe it, but I managed to keep on long enough to save this turian's life. I watch for a moment as Doctor Chakwas puts a blanket over his exposed body to keep him warm. Turians usually require higher temperatures, my brain reminds me casually.

'You knew him before, didn't you?' I ask and she turns towards me with a smile.

'Yes, I did. Shepard told you his name?'

'He mentioned it. And I've read the reports, so…'

Doctor Chakwas leans over the turian and takes off a visor off his head. I realise I have wanted to do that at some point, but apparently forgot to.

'Garrus is lucky you were on that shuttle. With those wounds he would have bled to death or died because of that silly medi-gel.' She looks at me and tilts her head to the side. 'Which is why I will not mention to Shepard that you went on that shuttle without authorisation. And that you're still refusing to go and take care of yourself. Change out of those clothes, girl, go and eat something before you'll end up occupying a bed next to him.' She points at the turian. 'He will be all right. You've saved him. Now off you go.'

I go off as she said. Next thing I remember is that giant portion of ice cream I keep munching on for a very long time, because that was the biggest calorie bomb Mess Sergeant Gardner could pull out of the freezer on a short notice.

After that I think I have crawled back to the med bay somehow and crashed on the last bed in the corner, the one protectively shielded by the sickbed curtains - the same ones I pulled out three days ago, when I stayed in the bay instead of going to my assigned bunk bed in crew quarters. I wonder what Doctor Chakwas would think about it, really.

Because I would rather like her to let me stay and sleep here, than having to sleep on the top bunk in the quarters. I am scared of it, because I roll in my sleep like crazy. I just know I am going to end up falling off eventually…

Also, falling asleep here is just… so much… easier…


	3. Entry 3

_**Again, many thanks to my awesome beta, DeliriumGothuique, for her hard work - this chapter would have never been so awesome without her aid!**_

_**As usual, You are invited to my deviantArt gallery (link in my profile page) for the accompanying comic page.  
**_

_**Everything belongs to BioWare, with small exception of Danielle.**_

* * *

Entry 3

_"…exhibit A in a xenobiological museum…"_

* * *

One thing I can be sure of – I have been woken up by a conversation.

I open my eyes with some difficulty. I cannot remember when the last time my eyelids have felt so heavy. It is like a hangover – only much worse, because it is undeserved. My head is pounding, my body is aching and I am pretty sure I look even worse than I feel. For a long moment I stare at the sickbed curtains in front of me. Cold, bluish light of the medical bay sifts from beyond them, but the corner I am tucked in is pleasantly dim and cosy. I am beginning to wonder whether I should not try and fall back asleep again, but then I remember what has caused me to wake up, because the voices start talking again. I unconsciously begin to listen.

First voice is easy, even in my current state. It is warm and carries a distinctive burden of age. It belongs to Doctor Chakwas.

'I'm telling you, you got skinny, Garrus. What have you been eating on that godforsaken station? I'm going to ask Gardner to arrange something extra for your diet…'

The second voice is alien, but surprisingly pleasant; low, with that that specific, flanging undertone to it that only a turian would have. It is quite impossible that it belongs to Garrus, he could not have woken up yet… Or could he? How long have I been asleep?

I stir under the blanket and I realise I am fully clothed – well, almost, since my boots are neatly placed near the sickbed. I must have fallen asleep after I took a shower and dressed myself back in my working clothes. I have no idea why I did that and why did I actually go to the med bay instead of crew quarters. It is quite possible that my very sleepy brain tried to insist on me fulfilling my duties, but nevertheless I feel a little silly.

A normal person would just go to sleep and not pretend to be always ready to assist, but not me. Sense of duty always gets the hold on me in situations like that, as if I had to prove myself that I am a responsible person, over and over. It is no different today.

I reach out towards the bedside table to find my translator earplug, which I have obviously removed before falling asleep. I cannot understand a word the turian is saying without it – his speech is just a mess of gnarling, screeching and occasional hisses. Unfortunately, my hand-eye coordination is not really the best at the moment and instead of picking up the earplug, I carelessly push the glass of water from the surface of the table and it crashes against the floor.

The conversation stops immediately. I hear hurried footsteps approaching me and a moment later the bedside curtain is pulled aside. I blink and squint my eyes because the lights blind me for a small second and then the silhouette of Doctor Chakwas appears, casting some welcomed shade over my face.

'So you've finally woken up, Danielle,' she says and reaches with her hand towards my forehead, checking for temperature. It is sort of a gesture my mother would make and I cannot help but feel very warm on the inside. 'How are you feeling?'

'Peachy,' I venture and she smiles at me.

'You've been out for a long while. Come, I'll help you get up.'

With her aid I sit on the bed, put the boots on and get up. Then I quickly reach for my translator and plug it inside my ear before looking over Doctor Chakwas' shoulder towards the rest of the med bay. The turian is indeed awake - sitting cross-legged on the same bed we have put him on… a while ago. He is only half-clothed and I can see that Doctor Chakwas must have been checking on his arm wounds, because the IWDS bandages are gone. He notices me looking at him and raises his uninjured, left arm in a greeting. I automatically wave back.

'How long, exactly, have I slept, Doctor?' I ask, not taking my eyes off the turian. I may not have seen too many of his species naked, but those I have seen in my anatomy atlas were nothing compared to the specimen I now have in front of me – slender, but not thin; with hard wires of muscle under greyish, scaled skin, he is an image of strength and agility. I cannot help but admire that.

Xenobiologically, of course.

'Almost seventeen hours,' Doctor Chakwas informs me, apparently unaware of my inner awe. 'Long enough for Vakarian here to get up and demand his armour back.'

'He should still be unconscious,' I protest weakly. 'His injures… were pretty severe.'

'One rocket to the face is not enough to keep me chained to a bed for long, Doctor,' Garrus interrupts me from his bed and I could swear he is winking at me. 'I've been through worse than that.'

I look from him to Doctor Chakwas, who shrugs with a faint smile on her lips.

'Hard to argue with this one, Danielle, I swear. Back on the old Normandy I always had trouble forcing him to take a day off to let his injuries heal. Turians are like that.' She walks back to Garrus and affectionately pats him on the uninjured shoulder. 'Duty above all.'

'Oh, don't remind me, Doctor. I'm not that good at being a dutiful turian, I'm afraid.'

I do not know what to think. Almost forgetting about my sore limbs, I take a few steps towards them to take a look on the turian myself. Without the bandage to cover them up, his wounds still look quite terrifying. Burnt flesh on the right side of his face starts to get replaced with patches of pale blue new tissue. I try to be careful, but whenever I brush my fingers against it, the turian winces a little. His skin is hot to the touch and there is a significant swelling of those parts that are not covered by scales, but I can tell this is just a reaction to the treatment and not an inflammation, which would be much more dangerous. I move my hand lower to his bruised arm, but the moment I touch it, Garrus utters a hiss.

'Sorry!' I say quickly.

'No, it's nothing,' he assures me, but there is no way I am going to believe it. Patches of bruises, so deeply blue that they almost seem black, run alongside his arm around the stitches. I imagine at the moment when the rocket had exploded, the armour has protected the bone from shattering, but the impact must have been too great to be fully absorbed by the shields.

'Can you move this arm at all?' I ask and Garrus lifts it just a few inches before letting it fall back with a deep sigh. Of course he cannot, just as I assumed. I raise an eyebrow doubtfully.

'Doctor Chakwas said that you have demanded your armour back, correct?' I inquire and the turian shrugs – carefully, with his left shoulder only. 'I am not that sure I am going to let you get up yet,' I warn him and he looks at Doctor Chakwas questioningly.

'Doc, that almost sounded like a threat.'

'Don't underestimate Danielle,' she gives him a look and I must admit that I am grateful for her taking my side. 'She's tougher than she looks like plus she has the final word in this.'

'Final word?' Now both Garrus and I stare at Doctor Chakwas with surprise.

'You're his designated medic for the time he is on the Normandy,' she says and smiles. 'You wanted to prove yourself and you have. Shepard decided you can take on some responsibilities of the medical officer and I agreed with him.'

I realise I am standing there with my mouth ajar and I quickly shut it. I cannot decide whether I am more surprised than scared or proud. I risk a quick glance at Garrus and I see he is smiling at me, in that weird way turians smile, with his mandibles flaring gently in and out. I assume it means he is slightly confused.

Goodness, as if I was not… I resist the urge to rub my forehead, because I would not like to make an impression that I consider him a burden. I feel a little lost. It would be so much better, if instead of receiving this information now, when I am sleepy, sore and exhausted, I would have preferred to hear about my new assignment when I was fresh and composed… But I must not be a disappointment. Not to the turian, not to Doctor Chakwas and definitely not to myself. I take a deep breath to calm down.

'Right…' I begin, pause and try out a small smile. 'Mister Vakarian, my name is Danielle Johannsen, which I had failed to mention earlier… And, apparently, I am going to be your designated medic for the time of this- this mission. I want to assure you that I will do my best to keep you in a perfect health.'

He chuckles – or at least tries to, raising his hand to the injured side of his face as if he was trying to keep it from falling apart. I feel kind of sorry for making him laugh, even though I had no intention to.

'Doctor Johannsen,' he replies after a moment and shoots a glance at Doctor Chakwas behind me. 'I must admit, I'll probably be your most frequent patient from now on. I admit I've always been visiting Normandy's medical lab a lot – you know, all those bullets flying around and turians really, really cannot duck – but now…'

The look he gives me now is both flattering and teasing, and it knocks me off rhythm. It is not the first time ever that my patient tries to flirt with me – more or less subtly – but I find it hard not to feel a certain excitement under the gaze of those pale blue eyes. I catch myself thinking, "He is quite handsome for a turian" and immediately wave that idea away. It must be my drowsiness messing up with my head. I do my best to keep my composure when I smile back at him.

'Certainly. May I remind you that office hours of the bay range from 8 am to 9 pm standard Earth time and any inquiry made beyond this designated period needs to be justified by life-threatening circumstances?'

'I'm perfectly sure I can come up with a few, if needed,' Garrus winks at me and I can hear Doctor Chakwas snorting with laughter behind me. My grin grows wider too.

'I would be most interested to hear them, in that case. For the time being I think I have seen enough. Doctor Chakwas, where can I find his IWDS bandages?'

'In the sterilising container near the bed,' she points to the right. 'You should go and eat something, Danielle. I can do those for you.'

'If I may, I would like to do this myself,' I declare, even though my stomach growls when she mentions food.

'Very well. I'll go and let Gardner know that you woke up, I was going to pick up my supper anyway,' Doctor Chakwas says and she leaves the bay, leaving me with the turian.

Supper… Goodness, I really was out for long! I try not to think about it for a moment and instead I concentrate on the bandages. I still cannot believe I can lay my hands on those. IWDS stands for Intelligent Wound Dressing System – a cutting edge piece of technology, something the Sirta Foundation was practically just releasing on the market. The bandage itself is made of organic fibres, filled with nanotechnology responsible for releasing just an adequate dose of stimulants and sterilisers to keep regenerating tissue in perfect regrowth conditions. I remember reading about how much the regrowth rate is accelerated, regardless of the nature of injury, and how impressed I was by the diagrams. Now I have the opportunity to see it at work with my own eyes!

I realise I am probably staring at the sterilising container for a bit too long and I turn to face the turian with an apologetic smile. Not sure if Doctor Chakwas has already mentioned how to handle the IWDS to him, I start to explain how it all works – how often the bandage needs to be taken off and sterilised to avoid complications, how often would I like to see him in the medical bay for the necessary health assessment. Garrus smiles at me when I mention the last.

'Every two days, Doctor? Not that I'm going to complain, but is that really necessary?'

I give him a questioning look. I wonder what he means by that; does he think I am exaggerating?

'For the first couple of weeks, absolutely, Mr Vakarian. The tissue regeneration is a complicated process and I would not want to risk any infection to get in the way of getting you back to perfect health. I believe it is equally important to you, considering the fact you need to be fully capable whenever Shepard wants to take you with him on a mission, am I right?'

He fumbles for a moment, as if he wanted to argue with me a little more, but then he utters a sigh and nods.

'Yeah, I think you're right, Doctor…' He pauses and gives me a serious look. 'Tell me, but honestly. How bad is this? When do you think I'll be, as you said, "fully capable?"'

I don't reply immediately. I take time to put the bandages on his arm, where they automatically adhere to the skin, then I run my fingers along his hand and place my palm on his – long and thin, with three awkwardly alien fingers.

'Full recovery might take a while, Mr Vakarian,' I say finally. 'With all the resources we have the access to, we will do our best to speed it up, but it will take a month, maybe two. I will inform Commander Shepard that you will require at least ten days before being allowed on a mission.'

He listens to me, his face almost expressionless, but I can sense a tension behind this calm demeanour. Perhaps he thinks himself useless at the moment, being a soldier that is going to be stuck in bed for at least a while longer. I cannot really tell, but I feel the sudden urge to give him a comforting hug. Instead, I take back my hand from his, realising that might be seen as a violation of his personal space. He does not seem to notice, however.

'Seems like that's quite a while, those ten days.' There is a hint of a joke in his voice and I can see witty sparks in his eyes. 'Could you at least give me a mirror, maybe? Doctor Chakwas didn't want to do that…'

I make a move towards my sleeping place, where I know my cosmetic bag should be, and I stop.

'You really want it now?' I make sure. 'It has only been a day and the wounds… well, it is going to show, even after they are fully healed, but right now…'

'I think I can handle my own face, Doctor,' Garrus winks at me. 'Please?'

When I come back and give him a small, compact mirror, he takes a long moment to examine his reflection. Fingers tracing along purple swelling along stitches, wincing every time he hits a soft spot, he again looks like he could use some hug.

And I could probably use some supper to stop these confusing thoughts from interrupting me, I realise.

'Well… It could've been worse, I guess,' the turian finally decides to break the silence and handles me the mirror back. 'I heard some women find facial scars attractive… Mind you, most of those women are krogan.'

I cannot help but giggle at this, a nervous, girlish giggle I really hate myself for at the moment, but it does seem to ease the tension in the room. Garrus grins back at me, his mandibles moving in and out.

'I am sure not all of them,' I venture and he tilts his head to the side, giving me another of those teasing looks.

'Really? If you were one of them, Doctor, how many points would I score with this one?' Garrus points at his right mandible, where the scar runs diagonally, cutting a fading blue marking of his home colony in half. I tilt my head to the side as he did and pretend I am inspecting it in great detail.

'If I fancied facial scars, then on a scale from one to ten, I would give you a solid seven for this.'

'Seven? You're hurting my feelings, Doctor!'

'The overall score would be nine, though.'

That makes him snort with laughter. 'Ah, don't, please! My face barely holds up as it is…'

'This might help a little.' I take the second bandage from the steriliser and place it on his right cheek. Garrus utters a sigh when the fibre settles on his skin and I can only imagine his relief at the cooling sensation.

'Indeed it does! I just need my armour and I think I'm ready to go. What do you say, Doctor?'

'I will agree, if you will dress yourself without my help,' I tease, knowing that he will not be able to do that. The turian knows it too and he shakes his head with disappointment.

'I don't think I'll be able to persuade you otherwise, Doctor?' He asks, just a trace of hope in his voice, but I dismiss him with a wave of my hand.

'I want you back to your health as quickly as possible, Mr Vakarian, but it will either happen on my terms or…' I hesitate, because I do not really know if I can threaten him anything. Not that I really want to. Right now all I really, really want is a sandwich. 'Or I will be a really sad person.'

'That's not going to happen.'

'I hoped you would say that, actually. Let me help you with these and I will go and find out what has happened to your armour. As I recall, it was pretty badly damaged, but maybe the ship's technicians were able to salvage at least some parts.'

As I thought, putting the sleeve back on the injured arm was difficult even with my aid. It took us another ten or so minutes, allowing Doctor Chakwas to come back from her meal break and chide me away to the mess room to "finally take care of myself". I eat my meal slowly, enjoying every bite and listening to the news Mess Sergeant Gardner is more than eager to share with me. I start to have an impression he is an incredible gossip.

'Get this – right after you guys boarded the Normandy with that turian, there's a guy reporting at the airlock, claiming he was recruited by Shepard just a few hours before. So that EDI computer ran a check on him and it turned out he's on the Illusive Man's dossiers, one Zaeed Massani, a merc. Girl, you should watch yourself around this one, he's one hell of a killer, all right, and that face… I ain't going to bed without my knife under my pillow, see…' He shows me his "kitchen utensil", as he calls it; a fearsome, three inch wide blade with a cogged edge. My brain starts showing me all possible damage a weapon like this could make to a human tissue and I push this thought away immediately. Sometimes my too vivid imagination can interfere with my meal.

'And Shepard let him in, knowing he is essentially a gun for hire?' I muse out loud and Gardner snorts, apparently displeased with my ignorance.

'Ain't that exactly a thing the Commander wants him for? The guy knows his way around guns and that's what counts on this mission, girl.' He puts another portion on my plate and I begin to wonder, if I can consume this all without exploding. 'That turian guy you have in your bay, he's just the same, ain't he? I heard he shot half of the Blood Pack before they got him nailed down in that warehouse. Tough son of a bitch, if you pardon me saying. Not just any guy could survive that hit he got in his face, I'd give him that.'

'Yes, it was pretty bad, but he is not "just any guy", Mr Gardner. His name is Garrus Vakarian and he was helping Shepard to save the Citadel from the Sovereign's attack two years ago,' I correct him and wave my fork in the air before Gardner has a chance to make me happier with a second vat grown burger. 'I wonder if his armour is going to be useful for anything, it looked really damaged back on Omega.'

'You don't worry about that, Doc, those tech geeks downstairs in the cargo put their hands on it all right. It might not be as good as new, but it's definitely going to close to that when they're done with it. Have another drink, girl.'

'I think I am full now, thank you, but I would not dismiss one for the road,' I say and Mess Sergeant puts a huge cup in my hands. 'I think I should take a stroll around the ship, I could use an exercise. Thank you.'

With a vitamin cocktail in one hand, I take the elevator down to the cargo bay. I notice one shuttle is missing and when I inquire the technicians about that, I learn that Shepard went back to Omega station to find and bring on board the salarian scientist. About time, I think, but I keep it to myself. One of the technicians, Alexia, shows me around their small lab and presents me with Garrus' armour – or what is left of it. I am in no way an expert, but it looks like a big chunk of the upper part has been bitten off and then fried for a while. I wonder what the turian will say about it, but the technician ensures me all electronics will be fully functional. She talks about it for a while longer, but I am ashamed to admit – I do not understand a thing from it. I sip on my vitamins, nodding, until she realises I am in no condition to admire her knowledge and she nudges my shoulder in a very friendly way, directing me back to the shuttle bay.

I stay there for a while, because the rest of the technicians, a woman and two men, turn out to be as nice as they are talkative. I quickly learn their names and then for at least half an hour we discuss how each one of us has ended on the Normandy. I find out Alexia is a former Alliance employee, who has joined the crew, because she used to know Commander Shepard before he has finished his N7 training; Gabi and Donnelly have graduated together from the Academy and kept one another close ever since, while Laslo seems to have gotten the job because his whole family is working for the Illusive Man's cells all around the Council Space. I start telling them about Grissom Academy, when a bunch of lights flash on the nearby telecom console and Joker's voice informs us that "the shuttle is about to dock".

I decide to keep out of everyone's way, but before I reach the elevator, the shutter opens, letting in the slender vehicle. The elevator temporarily closed off for me because of the safety protocol, I watch the shuttle enter through the semi-transparent force field that keeps the environmental pressure. It lands, Shepard and his teammates stepping out from it. The salarian is with them – tall, like almost all salarians are, in a white-and-red outfit that makes me think about a lab coat. His demeanour is hardly one of a lab worker, to be honest, unless I would have to assume he is a very unlucky scientist. There are lines of scars on his face and part of his right cranial horn is missing. I start to suspect that his scientific input is not the only thing Commander wanted to hire him for.

'Doctor Johannsen!' Shepard has spotted me standing near the elevator and now he is waving at me, wide smile on his face. 'Good to see you! We're ready for the scan whenever you are.'

'I- oh…' Of course, that is what he should expect from a medical officer waiting for him in the cargo bay - a preliminary injury assessment and contamination scan. 'I- yes, of course, Commander…' For a moment I am not sure what am I supposed to do with the cup I am still holding in my hand, but I am saved by the "beep" of the elevator door behind me. I take a look around to see Doctor Chakwas stepping out of it, bag with medi-gels on her arm.

'There you are, Danielle,' she says, nodding in my direction. 'Our patient has been asking about you, impatient to find out what's going on with his armour…'

'Do you mean Garrus, Doctor?' Shepard is near us in a few steps, concern in his eyes. 'How is he doing? Has he woken up?'

'He has and he is fine, considering all he's been through,' Doctor Chakwas answers him patiently. 'Doctor Johannsen will be able to tell you more afterwards. Anyway, Commander, why would you use the shuttle when the Normandy is safely docked in the station?'

'Ah, I just thought I'd take it for a ride,' sparks of laughter flicker in Jake's eyes. 'You know, all this fantastic stuff Cerberus gave me, it's fun to test them out.'

'Apparently,' she shakes her head, not amused. 'Please note that the airlock on CIC deck has the scans built in and there is no need for neither me nor Danielle to get all the way down here, would you?' She walks by us, towards rest of the Shepard's crew. 'All right, everyone, please line up for the mandatory scan, it won't take long.'

To my surprise, the salarian tries to bypass her.

'No time for scans,' he says to the Commander. 'Need to analyse samples, find out how Collectors abduct humans. Which way to the lab?'

I am surprised at the speed he is talking with. I always knew salarian thought process was way faster than human and that their speech represented it, but this scientist sounds like he has a kettle of ideas boiling in his brain and ready to explode.

'All squad members are supposed to submit to the scans upon entering the ship, Professor Solus,' Shepard explains to him, but the salarian just shakes his head impatiently.

'Run the test myself already, see?' He turns his omnitool on and waves his hand in the air. 'There. Perfectly healthy specimen, nothing contagious. Would submit myself to quarantine, if otherwise.' He looks at Doctor Chakwas and smiles at her, his eyelids blinking upwards, in that alien way all salarians do. I cannot see the look she has on her face, but I imagine that she is somewhere between angry and impressed. At least I am. 'Can forward all relevant data to your omnitool, Doctor, further assessment unnecessary. Would like to see the lab. Lots of work. Delay… problematic.'

I can see Shepard is smiling, but he wipes the smirk off his face, when Doctor Chakwas turns towards us with doubt painted all over her face.

'Commander…'

'With all due respect, Doctor, I think this one time we can grant Professor Solus a free pass.'

She pulls a wry face, but says nothing and just shakes her head.

'It's your call, Commander. Everybody else, including yourself, please form a line?' It is supposed to sound like a question, but it is quite obvious to me this is more of an order. She is not going to let anyone else go without a scan.

'Immediately, Doctor! Professor Solus, the laboratory is upstairs on the CIC deck. This lady here is our Junior Medical Officer, Danielle Johannsen. Danielle, this is Doctor Mordin Solus. Would you be so kind to show the way?'

Me? I raise my eyebrows in surprise and nod quickly, even though I'm not convinced it is a good idea. The salarian looks at me, as if he has noticed me for the first time just now; his huge, dark eyes scan me up and down with interest. I feel strangely exposed, as if I was an exhibit A in a xenobiological museum.

'This way, please, Doctor,' I gesture towards the elevator before I realise I am still holding a cup with my vitamin cocktail in my hand. I quickly pull it back, trying to hide it behind my body. The salarian does not seem to notice.

Although, once the elevator door closes, he immediately turns back towards me.

'Interesting,' he says, flashing his omnitool back on. 'Extremely rare hair colouring for a human, no visible signs of dye, possible gene therapy, yes? No, unlikely. Exceptional genes.' He moves his hand in the air up and down, apparently running some sort of a scan on me. I hesitantly take a step backwards and realise the elevator is a really small space. 'Biotic abilities present, very specific implant in use, only seen a similar one once. Fascinating. Junior Medical Officer? Biotic used in medical practice, very clever, very… ingenious. Could have used an assistant like yourself on Omega.'

'Ah… I think I will pass… Doctor… or is it Professor? Shepard did not specify…?'

'Names, titles – irrelevant. Experience matters, knowledge, skills,' he says quickly, waving his hand in the air. 'Not concerned with titles. Like the way you say it, though. Only heard it once from a human before. Fascinating. Doc-tah…' The salarian pauses for a moment and a quick smile passes his elongated face. 'Could get used to it.'

I nod carefully. I am probably not making the best impression right now, but I really do not know what to say. I take another sip from my cup and unconsciously start to nibble on the straw. I stop the second I realise I am doing this, but it is already too late. The salarian is staring at me, curiosity mixed with doubt on his face. I utter a small cough and the elevator stops on the CIC deck.

'We are here, Doctor Solus,' I say, maybe just a tiny bit too cheerfully. 'The technical lab is on your right. I hope you will find it equipped adequately to your needs.' What I really hope is to get away from his awkward person as fast as I can and without losing any more dignity than I already have. It might even work out. Upon mentioning the lab, the salarian apparently loses all interest in me and heads towards the door, oblivious to people he passes by. I notice Kelly Chambers, Shepard's Yeoman, staring at him with her mouth slightly ajar until he disappears inside the laboratory. She turns towards me then.

'Was that…?'

'Mordin Solus, the salarian Shepard went to recruit,' I answer, trying to sound cheerful. 'A charming person. I think you should get to know him better.'

I am probably being mean right now, but I know Kelly is going to attempt that, with or without a suggestion from me. She is really a wonderful person and a great psychiatrist, but her enthusiasm can be misplaced sometimes. Right now I would prefer it to be directed at the salarian rather than at me.

'Oh, I most definitely will!' She exclaims, broad smile at her face. 'How are you doing, Danielle? You have done an amazing thing, Shepard told me! That turian, Garrus, he owns you his life, is it right?'

'I guess you could say that,' I try carefully and see her grin grow even wider.

'It's good we have you with us, Danielle! I talked with him a while ago, he seems like such a sweet person, you know? Sweet… and so very, very sad. He makes me want to hug him and keep hugging him until he knows it's going to be all right.'

I am not sure what to answer to that. Granted, Kelly has already told me she "loves everyone, every person and every race in the Galaxy", but this is something new. I take a moment to sip on my vitamins.

'I think that would be like hugging a pineapple,' I say finally and that makes her snort with laughter. 'I should go and check up on him, actually. It was nice chatting with you.'

I take the elevator back down and I leave the emptied cup with Gardner in the mess. The windows to the med bay are still obscured, so I cannot see what is going on inside, but I do not think Doctor Chakwas is back yet. I open the door and catch up the end of the conversation.

'…they're all dead because of me, Shepard.'

I freeze halfway in and look in the blue eyes of Jake Shepard, who is standing a few feet from the door. Garrus is sitting on his bed, his arms sloped, his head hung low, but now that he notices me he looks up and straightens his back. I am not sure what I can see in his expression except for pain. Lots of pain.

'I- I am sorry, Commander,' I gasp, taking a step back. 'I have interrupted. I will wait outside.'

I shut the door behind me and stand there for a long moment, staring at their smooth, cold, metallic surface, my eyes suddenly starting to sting. I rub them with the back of my hand.

I do not know about Kelly, but I am sure one hug is not going to make much difference for this certain turian.


	4. Entry 4

_**I admit, it took me a while to write this one. Generally speaking, I don't feel like writing lately, which I know is a lame excuse, but oh well! Lots of things going on.  
**_

_**Plus, pictures steal my time.  
**_

_**Many, many thanks to my beta, DeliriumGothique, for her time spent on this one :)  
**_

**_Comments of all kind are very welcome! Also, Bioware owns all, blah blah._  
**

* * *

Entry 4

_...feeling even more homesick than I ever felt..._

* * *

'Dear Mum and Dad.'

I try to sit more comfortably on the chair in the Com Room and I stare in the small eye of the extranet camera. It is my turn to record a vid-log for my relatives, so it can be sent their way along with all the other messages the rest of the crew is sending. I heard it is going to be put through some sort of scrutiny and any parts that could reveal anything about our mission, are going to be cut out. The need to keep all details secret is also the reason why the Com Room and its blank, casual wall have been chosen for the recording area.

'I hope you two are doing well, and that Sarah and Dylan are being good kids when their big sis is not around.'

The semi-transparent globe of EDI's hologram is glowing lightly a little to the left and behind the camera. It is a weird feeling, being observed by her. Although as an Artificial Intelligence she does not have optic units as such, she is constantly monitoring life on the Normandy through dozens or maybe hundreds of little cameras and sensors. Right now she is here with me, because I specifically asked her assistance while recording the video. She is supposed to flash red at me, whenever I get to a topic that might be compromising for the mission. I am resisting an urge to lick my dry lips.

'I cannot tell you too much about what I am doing right now; you know, all those heavily funded companies want to guard their secrets well!' I continue, looking at EDI with a corner of my eye. 'But it is great here, you know? I am meeting lots of really amazing people '

I suddenly picture Doctor Solus in his lab, pretty close to my current whereabouts. There is no denying, he is amazing in some creepy and mind-boggling way. Then my thoughts jump to Vakarian and I suddenly find myself smiling. I wonder what my parents would say, if they knew the "amazing people" are mostly aliens.

'It is really great to be able to work with them, you know? And it is important. It really is. You remember how I told you I am going to apply for that big, big thing that is going to make changes in the Galaxy? Well Mum and Dad, this is it!'

EDI "beeps" at me once, letting me know that my recording time is coming to an end. I clear my throat and fix my stare at the camera eye.

'I cannot tell you when this thing will be over, but I hope to pay you guys a visit once it comes to an end. I really miss Demeter colony! And I miss my sweet brother and sister, so if they are here and I know they are give them a gigantic hug from me, will you? I miss you all and I love you!'

I put the biggest smile I can master on my lips and wave towards the camera until EDI blips at me again. I put my hand down and sigh much deeper than I possibly wanted to.

'Are you all right, Doctor Johannsen?' Asks the modulated voice of the ship's AI and I think about my answer for a few moments. The truth is I am not really "all right". We had more news reports coming in about the colonies that had been abducted and I cannot deny that I am starting to worry whether our mission is going to end as optimistic as I have originally assumed. Luckily, I do not have to worry about my family Demeter is located far away from Terminus systems, being one of the first colonised worlds and close to Earth but myself... I suddenly feel a cold sensation on my cheeks and I know it is because my skin is getting white and bloodless. It is clearly a symptom of an incoming panic attack. I curl my hands into fists to stop it, nails pinching skin on the inside of my palms. I must not let it overwhelm me. I am safe on this ship, safe under the command of the only person in the Galaxy who can possibly lead us against the Collectors and win. I am safe on Jake Shepard's ship.

'I feel fine, EDI, thank you,' I say out loud and I smile weakly to the hologram. 'I should make the room for another person, right?'

I do not know if the AI believes me or not - assuming an AI does recognise the term "to believe someone" but she makes no remark when I stand up and walk towards the door of the Com Room. When I open it, I notice the queue in the corridor is taking a definite turn to the left, through the open slide door to the Armoury. I suppress a small smile. No wonder nobody wants to spend their waiting minutes in the Technical Lab with Doctor Solus. I know better than anybody else how awkward the salarian can be when he is in a questioning mood.

Nevertheless, I head to his laboratory at once. He informed me that he will be expecting my help once I am done with the video. I wonder what he will come up with this time. Ever since he joined the Normandy and asked Shepard for my assistance, each day has become an even bigger surprise. During the last three days, for example, he managed to assume human hair serves as cooling organ and that five fingers evolved so we can play cat's cradle (he was really disappointed he cannot do that); and I am running out of ideas what is going to come up in his mind next. It is oddly thrilling, to be honest. And despite how crazy the salarian sounds, I think I can safely assume he is less harmful than most of the crew thinks him to be a little out of it, true, but none of his experiments are putting the Normandy at risk.

Well, to be completely honest, not willingly, at least.

He does not notice me when I enter the lab not at first, anyway. Hunched over a microscope and humming to himself, Doctor Mordin can be completely unaware of his surroundings when he is concentrating on something. I have already realised it is not advisable to interrupt him, so I turn my attention to the cell cultures on the shelf. Making notes about their progression is one of the few things the salarian allows me to do. I admit, at the very beginning I was expecting him to burden me with all the cleaning, as it usually happened when I had been someone's assistant before. He surprised me, though. He does everything by himself and only lets me do things I request. I really do not know why he has asked for my help in this laboratory Except for the talks.

'Ah! Doctor Johannsen. Good to see you today,' he says suddenly and I turn around to smile at him.

'Same to you, Doctor Solus.'

'Had something here that might interest you. One moment.'

He takes a few more minutes to insert some data into his omnitool and then he reaches to the drawer and presents me with a vial. I carefully take it from him. Liquid inside is transparent and indistinctive. I know it can be anything, from a sample of our breakfast to some sophisticated poison that would only work on a hanar.

'What is it?'

'Virus strand, mutated to be a gene carrier. Very specific gene.'

I cast a quick glance at him, uncertain what my reaction should be, but the salarian is smiling at me encouragingly, corners of his wide mouth twisted upwards.

'That is uh, interesting? What kind of gene?'

'Yours, in fact. Have isolated the genes responsible for the pigmentation of your keratin strands. Made the virus their carrier. Harmless, really,' Mordin pauses for a moment. 'Unless someone in favour of their hair colouration. Made a sample for testing.'

'What exactly are you planning to do with this?' I ask, trying to keep the shock from my voice. Granted - I gave him a strand of my hair, because one cannot resist constant nagging forever - but I definitely was not expecting this as an outcome.

'Application simple. Direct contact with the skin required,' he says, completely oblivious to my dismay. 'Would like to find a suitable test subject. Not you, obviously. Perhaps Miss Chambers.'

'Wait, you are thinking about applying this- this virus gene carrier to Kelly?' I ask. I have to admit, I am a little overwhelmed by the situation. 'And then what she goes blonde?'

'Supposedly, yes. Might also lose her hair.' He blinks, when I give him another horrified stare and raises his arms reassuringly. 'Probability of that very limited, though. Plus, she seems to be colouring her hair already. Might submit to the experiment with great enthusiasm.'

'Doctor ' I sigh and rub my forehead with my free hand. 'I do not think this is the best idea.'

The look he gives me is full of injured pride.

'Ran simulations on the virus progression. Successful gene application present in ninety nine point five per cent of cases,' he says and opens his omnitool to show me a series of graphs. 'Possible failure does not pose threat to the test subject '

'In fact,' I interrupt him gently. 'It does. It might affect Kelly's morale, you see. For a human female, losing her hair is a an emotional disaster.' I probably could not have come up with weirder idea, but it seems to work for the salarian. He bites his lower lip in concentration. I try hard not to tell him I find it extremely crazy to make Kelly blonde with my hair sample. Indirectly, maybe; but it is still nothing short of being disgusting!

'Point worth considering,' Doctor Solus says finally, but I can see he is disappointed with me. 'Surprised at your scientific attitude, Doctor Johannsen. Would think you to be more excited.'

I open my mouth to come up with some sort of excuse, but the salarian turns away from me, losing interest in the matter as quickly as he gained it. He starts talking about something else and I half-listen about the difficulties that follow arranging a delivery of a bug from the Collector swarm. Apparently, Doctor Mordin has placed a requisition order for one and I find it quite amusing that Shepard will now have to figure out how to get it

It takes another hour before the salarian decides he has had enough of a chat with me and he gently nudges me away from the Technical Lab. I admit, I am a little tired too. Ever since I have recorded that video for my family, I have been thinking about them, feeling even more homesick than I ever felt during my years in Grissom's. I cannot stop wondering whether I will be able to see them again, to go and visit Demeter as I promised in the video. Before I realise what I am doing, I find myself in the elevator taking a ride down to the shuttle bay. I know where I am subconsciously going and, well, I decide it is not that bad idea anyway.

Once out of the elevator, I turn to the lock-protected door leading to the storage area. The room is filled with as the rest of the Normandy calls it Mess Sergeant Gardner's stuff. There are crates and boxes of supplies, piling up against both walls and line of freezers in the back. This is the place where all the food that is not being actively processed in the kitchen, is being stored. All the food and one little plant of mine.

I made a deal with Gardner to put my hydroponic container down here after I realised there is no way to fit it either in the common rooms or in the med bay. In return, I promised to help him with dishwashing once a week and so far the deal has been going flawlessly. Truth be told, once it came out I have the free access to the storage area, I have experienced several crewmates approaching me and asking for this and that "because their rations are too low". So far no one has been able to persuade me to actually bring them anything and I am secretly hoping one Garrus Vakarian will not come up with such an idea

I shake my head and I sit down on one of the crates facing my container. It holds a single maple tree made into a bonsai. It was my grandfather's idea. He has always been fascinated with the art of growing those miniature trees that originated from old Earth and he decided to plant one for each of my family members and this particular one has been planted on the day I was born. I remove the lid that keeps optimum growth conditions inside and reach towards small leaves, their delicate fracture soft against my skin. My father gave it to me the day I was leaving Demeter to start my studies in Grissom, saying that I should "always remember about the place they keep for me at home". I have not parted with it ever since.

I shudder when my omnitool bracelet bleeps at me and I quickly take my hand out of the container to start it up. Doctor Chakwas' face appears on the screen.

'Danielle, are you still in the Technical Lab?' She asks and I shake my head. 'Are you busy? I could use some help.'

'I am in the storage room downstairs, Doctor. I can be in the med bay in five minutes ' I begin, but she interrupts me.

'Oh, that's even better! Would you mind going to Engineering and see if that new recruit of Shepard's, Jack, is there? I heard she was going to stay in the maintenance room, downstairs from the engine room '

I hesitate just for one moment. That "Jack recruit" is not a person I would like to get in contact with so soon. Or maybe at all, but that would hardly be possible while on the same ship.

'Of course, Doctor,' I say, trying to sound cheerful. 'Anything else I can do for you?'

'Just one thing, Danielle. Tell her I've had enough waiting for her to show up for her examination. That girl has spent God knows how many months in cryo and she refuses to be taken care of.'

'I see. I will be on my way,' I reply and I turn the omnitool off. I pay my bonsai one last look and I close the hydroponic container, setting it back to automatic control. I am glad I could afford one of these after linking its programming to EDI's, I was relieved of having to keep an eye on it every day. It would be pretty difficult with all the tasks I am usually given either in the med bay or the technical lab

I get out of the elevator and pause at the top of the stairs hesitantly, peeking down into the space filled with red light. To be honest, I did not even know there is a habitable room beneath the Engineering deck. I have only seen this new Jack person once and that from a distance which, as I have heard later, spared me the view of her almost topless clothing and almost fully tattooed body. I shudder at the thought how painful must have been putting ink on the most delicate parts of the skin. I wonder what state of mind drives people to decorate themselves in such a hurtful manner.

I wish I could just shout my message down the stairs and scuttle back to the med bay, but I know it would haunt me as unfilled task for days to come. I gather all my courage and walk downstairs, my boots making every step ring with metallic sound. The red light makes everything look odd and sort of creepy. I notice a dark silhouette deeper in the room.

'Hello?' I call out, my voice weak and trembling oh, how I hate when that happens. I clench my teeth for a second, before speaking out again, a little louder. 'Is that you, Jack? I- I just want to talk with you.'

There is no response and I pause, unsure if I should proceed deeper in or just turn around and run. The silhouette in the distance is now moving towards me, becoming a shape of a woman in her scanty clothing. Red light reflects off her skin, darker parts of the tattoo highly contrasted.

'So,' she says in a voice that is harsh and low. 'You must be that doctor girl.'

I am not sure why, but this statement sounds like an accusation. I nod carefully.

'There is only me and Doctor Chakwas here on the Normandy, so I guess, yes, that will be me.'

'That's clever of you, little girl,' she snorts, making a few steps in my direction, quickly covering the distance that separates us. I do my best not to back off. There is something really threatening in the way she moves, in the way she keeps her shaved head a little low, scowling like she was measuring me for a slave trade. 'What the fuck do you want?'

I find it really difficult to reply when she stares at me, like a cobra hypnotising some small rodent. I swallow, trying to remove that choking sensation from my throat, but it does not help much.

'I- I am here to ask you to come up to the med bay, whenever it is convenient for you,' I say and she scoffs dismissively. 'You need a proper examination and treatment to return to your full health after the cryo-'

'Do I now?' She interrupts me, baring her teeth in a very menacing smile. 'And how would you know what a cryo prisoner needs, huh, little girl?'

'I-' I stumble, looking for words. 'I have been trained to take care of people being subjected to prolonged periods of hibernation '

'Really?' She moves closer to me and this time I take two steps back, before I hit the wall. 'Is that so, little girl? Because I know, so to speak, first-hand. Because unlike you, who has been grown to be this pretty little doctor, I have been conditioned to fight and kill. And that's what I like to do best.' Her right hand flares blue with biotic flame when she moves it closer to my face. 'I like to kill.'

'Please ' I whisper, turning my head to the right to escape contact with her palm. Biotic energy flickers in the air around me, causing my skin to itch in a familiar and now terrible way. 'I did not want to upset you '

Jack backs off with a small laugh, but her hand is still shining blue when she speaks.

'Oh, aren't we scared now?' Her voice is full of mocking compassion. 'Aren't you wishing Cerberus had made you into something better than this wimpy little doctor girl?'

I try to keep my eyes on both her face and her palm, but beneath the crippling fear I realise something else. I do not understand what she is talking about.

'Why- why would you say "made me"?' I dare to ask and the woman tilts her head to the side, as if I surprised her.

'You don't know? It's all here in the files.'

She turns around and walks back to her bed, where a number of datapads have been scattered carelessly, some of them switched off and some displaying lines of text and photos. Jack picks up one of them and looks at me with another creepy smile.

'It's all here, little girl. How Cerberus created you by exposing your dear Momma to eezo radiation, how they found you a foster family and how they manipulated your way into this big, fancy school for little freaks. All the info plain, all the numbers clean; including how much your so called parents were paid to keep you as theirs,' she extends her hand towards me. 'See for yourself, if you want.'

I freeze with my hand half out-stretched towards the datapad. No No, it cannot be!

'It is a lie,' I whisper so silently that she leans closer to hear me. 'You are lying. It cannot be true.'

Jack's eyes narrow when she looks at me.

'Oh, so that's what it looks like,' she says with an expression I can only describe as "triumphant". 'That's what shattered hope looks like '

'You are lying!' I say out louder and she throws the datapad on the bed, making a few quick steps back to me.

'You think so? Ask your dear Commander about that, see what he tells you,' she hisses right into my face. 'See who you really are, little girl. In the end, we're not as different as you think. We've all been fucked by Cerberus and both our lives have been steered by someone else. Now get the hell out of my place. Now!'

I do not wait for her to tell me that twice. Bewildered and terrified, I turn around to run up to the engineering deck. I slip on one of the top steps and finish my panicked escape upstairs on all fours, heart beating like a drum. I get up as quickly as I can and hit the control panel of the door, running through it without looking. And I collide with someone.

The sound I make is something between a whimper and a shriek, because I try to stifle it in my throat. I get grabbed by my arms in a flash and I am steadied in place by a grip as hard as a rock. I look up to see the mismatched face of Zaeed Massani.

Perfect, from one insane merc to another. I want to back off, but he does not let go of my shoulders.

'What's up with ya, girl?' He asks, scanning me with both his healthy and blind eye. It is a really creepy stare. 'That little, destructive bitch downstairs giving you shitty time?'

I hesitate a little, but I nod to that. Scary as he looks, he does not seem to be hostile. In fact, he almost seems helpful, which is quite unexpected coming from a person of his reputation. He snorts towards the closed door to the engineering.

'She's a messed up psycho, if I say that,' he states, his good eye rolling to look at me. 'You shouldn't give a damn thing for what she's telling ya. And if she's messing with ya, go tell Shepard about it. He'll muzzle her right as he should, that's right. Hell, he might even do that himself!'

I shift nervously at his cackling laughter. As much as I do not find it amusing, the mercenary probably has the point. I should talk to Shepard, maybe maybe even ask him about what Jack said was true. My heart freezes for a moment at that thought and I notice Zaeed tilts his head to the side, looking at me with something I can only describe as 'concern'.

'Has she hurt you in any way, girl?' He asks and I shake my head. 'Didn't cut yar tongue out neither, huh?'

'No,' I manage to say. 'Thank you, mister Zaeed. I am fine.'

'You damn not look like yar fine. But it ain't my business.'

He finally lets me go and walks towards his room on the end of the corridor without paying me another glance. I take a breath before I turn to the elevator, then another one and another one, but it is still not enough. There is now a heavy weight in my chest and it seems that no amount of deep breaths can lift it.


	5. Entry 5

**I know it took me really long to finish this one, but, what can I say, there's been a lot happening in my life...**

**I hope You will enjoy this one. Unfortunately, still unbeta'ed, but I got mighty impatient!**

* * *

Entry 5

_…I try to stop the words in my throat, but I cannot keep them in forever…_

* * *

It is incredibly hot on the Normandy. I was told it is because of the star of the planet we have approached. Laslo, one of the engineers - who seem to enjoy chatting with me over meals - said it is unstable, prematurely entering that phase of its life that usually ends up in a red giant stage - providing that the star does not collapse into itself to form a black hole, obviously.

From what I have heard, we are here to pick up an old friend of Shepard's, a quarian named Tali'Zorah. I have heard her name before, of course. Just like Garrus Vakarian, she was one of those people who have accompanied Shepard two years ago, when he was a Spectre chasing another Spectre that has had gone rogue - a turian named Saren. As it turned out later, Saren had been gathering a geth army that he has eventually led against the Citadel. And since geth are the artificial life form created by the quarians a few hundred years ago, Tali'Zorah's experience was more than crucial to eventually defeating them.

Well, that was two years back. Right now, as I have been told, a small army of geth is occupying the planet, Haestrom, and Tali'Zorah is supposed to be somewhere on its surface. Quite inevitably, it means that we are also in the middle of war zone, the Normandy hidden well with the stealth system she has. To be honest, I am just waiting for the alarms to ring, announcing the approach of one of the geth warships. There are three of them on the planet orbit with us right now - and I know this for sure, because Shepard had us all briefed before he left for the planet surface.

What exactly am I doing here?

I have been asking myself that question for the last half an hour. I try to remind myself that I have signed up for this mission fully aware of how dangerous it is, but, well, it is one thing to know about it and the other to actually feel it. And my hands have been shaking ever since we entered this star system and probably will until we leave it.

If we leave it.

I wonder if that would not be the best option. I have been trying hard not to think about what Jack has told me those two days ago, that I was a Cerberus experiment, adopted by my parents because they were paid well. I do not know if I can believe it or not. Everything in me that has always missed Demeter and the farm my parents have there, is screaming that it cannot be true; that the memories I have are real and full of love. But there is also that small voice in the back of my head asking "are you sure?" and it is becoming harder and harder to ignore it.

Am I, really? I find myself both despairing and outraged by the thought I have never before noticed that my life may have been manipulated. I am now questioning every moment that I thought to have been a happy coincidence - New Dawn Pharmaceutical agent appearing on Demeter, willing to pay for my admission to Grissom's Academy. The internship I was practically handed over the moment I have graduated. The Normandy mission I was assigned to, despite being one of the least expected candidates… It is really difficult to admit I have taken all those situations on faith, never questioning their probability. The realisation of how naïve that proves me to be, is really making me feel depressed and angry with myself.

I cannot help but consider a quick death by some geth warship laser beam might just prove to be an easier option, than having to deal with the possibility of my whole life being one, gigantic and horrible lie.

I am so deep in my thoughts right now that when I hear someone knocking against the window of the med bay, I literarily jump in my chair, my head jerking up from the piece of paper I have been tearing to a very tiny scraps. I look into blue eyes of Garrus Vakarian and he smiles at me in that weird turian way. I find myself smiling back and he gestures to the inside of the bay in a clear question "can I come in?". I nod and for a moment a part of me marvels on how similar our races are, apart from the obvious morphological differences. One would have expected another species to have some awkward system of gestures of their own that would most likely be as alien to us as their appearance is, but it seems that in whole Galaxy some things are just surprisingly universal. When I think about that, it is quite heart-warming, actually.

'You look bored, Doctor,' he says as he enters the bay. I look at him with surprise. 'I thought you might use some company. Oh, and I have a request to make, too.'

'I do not quite understand, Mister Vakarian…' I begin and he shakes his head with an amused snort.

'See, I wonder how many times I'll have to repeat myself over, but I'll try again,' he interrupts me and gives me a teasing look. 'Will you just stop that and call me by my name for once, please, Doctor?'

I cannot help myself but smile on that one. It is true, he has been insisting on that ever since I have been assigned as his medical officer in charge, but I still cannot make up my mind to do so. I cannot help but admire him - his undisputable battle skills, his charm, his experience… It is just too incredible for a person like this to ask me, a regular staff member, to call him by the first name; almost as if we were squadmates, because I simply cannot place our two names and a word "friends" in one sentence. That would be too… amazing.

'I have already explained myself, Mister…'

'I insist,' he interrupts me again, playful sparks in his blue eyes. I give up. As always.

'All right, Garrus. But only if you quit calling me "Doctor", for once. Back to the question I wanted to ask earlier: why would you think I am bored? I am afraid my current state of mind can be called anything but bored…'

'I don't know, Danielle.' Oh, goodness; how come it is so nice to hear my name spoken in that deep, flanging voice of his? 'I guess I've just assumed you're as bored as I am.'

I shake off that embarrassing pink mist that is beginning to envelop my brain and I raise my eyebrows in a question.

'Well… you kept me off the mission again,' he explains, his tone now just a little bit hurt. 'It's been twenty days and you still tell Shepard I'm not at my… how do you call it?'

'Full capability,' I finish. This is another of our regular issues he loves to bring up. I am kind of feeling guilty about this, because I realise how much he is longing for some action; like a caged animal, he walks around Normandy every time Shepard is taking his team out. But I know I need to keep this turian from fighting for at least another week. His recovery is going remarkably well, wounds healing fast under the IWDS bandages, yet it is still not enough. I have told him that so many times, that I just stand here in silence now, waiting for him to finish the argument the same way he usually does, admitting that I am "probably right". Not this time, though.

'What if I made you a deal, Danielle?' He asks, tilting his head to the side.

'What kind of a deal?'

'If I can pick you up with my right hand and carry you all the way from here to the mess room tables, are you going to report my full capability to Shepard?'

I stare at him somewhat stupefied. He cannot be serious about it, can he now?

'Because,' Garrus continues, obviously noticing my hesitation. 'I can totally do that. Right now.'

He takes a step in my direction and I back off with a small laugh.

'Oh, I believe you!' I say quickly. I cannot possibly allow him to perform that little joke, not if I do not want to risk some deterioration of his recovery. 'Or at least I believe that you believe you can! However, I do not think actually testing that is a good idea. If you want me to accompany you to the mess room, I can quite safely do this on my own, thank you.'

'I'll take that, then,' he says with just a hint of disappointment in his voice. 'I still think you could use some company and possibly a regular dinner, just as the rest of us.'

'I am sorry, Garrus, I just do not feel hungry in this circumstances,' I admit apologetically. 'We are effectively in a war zone. That really does not encourage a need for a healthy meal!'

'My stomach definitely calls for one,' the turian says and extends his hand towards me. 'Shall we?'

I resist the urge to take that offered hand and instead smile as convincingly as I can today. I really am not in a mood for grins, but… somehow I want to smile for him. It is surprising how good I feel around this man, even though I hardly know him as a person.

We walk to the mess room and stop in front of Mess Sergeant Gardner's little realm. He gives me a taxing look and then turns to Garrus with an approving nod.

'I see ya dragged our little Doctor out of the bay, nice work,' he says and the turian makes a little snort.

'We don't want her starving, do we?' I suddenly feel his armoured hand placed on my right shoulder in a very protective way and I freeze in place for just one second. I cannot decide what I feel in this moment. Am I more alarmed or delighted? I force the grin back on my face before our cook starts to look at me in a weird way.

'You are both too kind, caring for me,' I say as lightly as I possibly can and I reach out towards the plate in front of me.

And, all of a sudden, I bump into someone on my left.

'Oops, sorry for that!' Says a voice in the air and I take a panicked step to the side, colliding with Garrus, who instantly catches my other arm to steady me. I watch with eyes wide as the air in front of me vibrates and fills with colour, revealing a shape of a woman dressed in black clothes and a hood. I gasp. 'Didn't want to scare you, Doctor-Dany.'

I release myself from the turian's grip and do my best to regain my composure, as shaken as it has already been before the Master Thief appeared.

'Miss Goto,' I say with a small nod. Shepard has picked her up last time we have been on the Citadel and I was in the med bay when she came in for the regular examination. I remember I was wondering then, how is it possible for her to keep her face darkened by the hood in the sharp light of the Normandy's lamps. Then it turned out her face is simply painted dark from her nose up. She claimed that is a habit she finds difficult to withhold.

'I thought you went out with Shepard?' Garrus inquiries and the woman shrugs dismissively.

'Nah, it's a hot planet and just look at me, I'm wearing black.' Her teeth flash in the shadow of her hood when she smirks, kind of making me think about a row of pearls in a necklace. She turns to Mess Sergeant Gardner. 'Ramen for dinner again, huh? I must say I've missed a good ramen, but this is quite too much for me.'

'No need to eat if you ain't appreciating it,' the cook snorts and she beams at him too.

'I wouldn't dream of not appreciating it! It's a good ramen, isn't it, Doctor-Dany?'

I blink and look at her a little distracted. I could swear she is always saying my job title and my name as if it was one, very rhythmical word. I notice the anticipation in her features and I quickly turn to the cook with a wide smile.

'Of course it is! I daresay it is the best one I have ever eaten, Mister Gardner.'

I can hear Garrus chuckle quietly behind my back when I receive a double portion of the dish. I try to ignore that, as well as the amused grin on Kasumi Goto's face. She pats my back when I turn around, ready to head towards the table.

'Enjoy your hearty meal!' She says with a good-natured laughter before she turns her cloaking device on and disappears again. I honestly do not know what to think about her behaviour. Part of me is admiring the grace she moves with and around the Normandy, appearing at the same time a part of the crew and a totally separate and intriguing being. Another part senses there is more to her than just her cloak and smile - that there is some sadness and nostalgia to her that cannot be explained.

When I begin to wonder what her secret might be, I realise I am doing that only because I subconsciously want to have this certainty I am not the only person with a trauma in my life. Then I realise how petty that makes me and I push those thoughts as far away as I can.

They keep coming back, though.

'Your meal is getting cold, Danielle.'

I look up from the bowl of untouched ramen to see Garrus, who is staring at me with concern written on his face. I have almost completely forgotten about him and about the fact I am in the mess room, instead of the private safety of the med bay. I can feel a blush creeping at my cheeks and I try to suppress it with the most honest smile I can put on my lips right now. I am probably not doing that very well.

'Oh, of course!' I say, my voice just a little bit too high-pitched and desperate. 'Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts.'

'Yes, I could see that,' he replies and for a moment I have some difficulty taking my eyes off his; blue orbs that are telling me that he is worried about me. But why would he be? We do not even know each other; he is just my patient… I lower my head and concentrate on eating, determined not to break the silence that suddenly fell over the table we both occupy. Luckily, I am saved by Joker's voice on the radio.

'Normandy crew, prepare for a take-off, the shuttle is inbound. Some turbulences may occur, hold your glasses tight! Thank you for flying Air Normandy, folks, don't forget to check in with your favourite pilot and remember - Big Sister EDI is always watching!'

I clasp my fingers around the cup that is in front of me, awaiting the tremors Joker mentioned, when my omnitool bracelets bleeps at me. I activate it and Doctor Chakwas' face appears on the com.

'We're going to have an injured quarian on board, Danielle,' she informs me, without waiting for me to speak. 'Prepare the clean room, please.'

'Certainly, Doctor,' I reply and turn the omnitool off at almost the same moment the Normandy enters FTL speed and some minor vibrations appear. They stop quickly, though, and I make a move to get up. But... I cannot. As if I suddenly lost control over my body, I sit motionless, knuckles of my right hand getting white when my grip around the cup tightens. With arising panic, I realise I cannot let it happen again. I cannot allow my fear to stop me from performing my duty. I find it ridiculous that it should happen now, when the danger we have been exposed to seems to be lesser and lesser by the matter of seconds. I raise my head just an inch to cast a quick glance at Garrus and I realise he looks back at me, his head tilted to the side in a wordless question.

I try to stop the words in my throat, but I cannot keep them in forever.

'I am scared,' I say silently. For a fraction of a second I wonder if anyone in the mess room pays us any attention, but it quickly ceases to matter at all. The turian leans towards me over the table and his three armoured fingers gently close around my stiff palm.

'Hey, it's okay,' he says with a voice so soft I would have never expected from him. 'We'll be out of the geth range in a few minutes.'

I nod hesitantly. For the next few seconds I take the comfort in the metallic chill of Garrus' gloves, before I slowly withdraw my hand from his and straighten up.

'Thank you,' I whisper. 'I need to… I need to go to the med bay. Get ready.'

The turian gives me his alien, mandible-flaring smile, the most reassuring sight I have seen in eons.

'I'll be here if you need me, Danielle.'

I am not sure how I ended up in the med bay and how I managed to get everything prepared, because the next thing I notice is the hissing sound of the door being opened and Doctor Chakwas walking in, followed by two quarians: a woman dressed in violet and grey, who is supporting a man dressed in reds. Judging by the number of medigel patches on his body, he lost enough blood to collapse, but he is walking, even though wobbly. I immediately direct the two of them to the clean room - a temporarily construction of semi-transparent walls, that was designed in the back of the med bay to contain patients with contagious diseases. Luckily, it is also hermetic enough to serve as a sterile room for our quarian patients, whose immune systems are not prepared for the contact with germs on the outside of their suits.

'It's going to be crowded with the two of us,' says Doctor Chakwas, while she puts on a sterile suit. 'I'll take care of Kal'Reegar in there, you check that burn on Tali's side, will you?'

I look around at the quarian woman, who nods at me.

'Without the clean room?' I ask a little surprised. 'Would that not expose her even more?'

'I was thinking about it,' my supervisor puts on a mask and winks from above it. 'Try your biotic fields. They should be sterile enough for that short moment you need to take the medigel off and apply the burn ointment.'

Without further instructions she walks into the sluice of the clean room. I turn to Tali'Zorah and then freeze, unsure of what their species greetings might look like. She saves me, extending her hand towards me in a friendly and straight-forward gesture.

'Please, just call me Tali,' she says, her voice vibrating with distortions caused by the voice processor at the bottom of her mask. 'Nice to meet you.'

'Likewise, Tali. My name is Danielle and I am Doctor Chakwas' assistant here in the med bay. It is an honour to have you with us,' I reply, grateful to skip further formalities and I can see shining orbs of her eyes narrowing slightly in a smile. I cast a quick glance over her figure and notice fresh patch of medigel on her left side. 'Please take a sit, so I can take care about your injuries.'

I have never before attempted to create a biotic field so dense that it could remain sterile for a period of time, but I can see how Doctor Chakwas came to a conclusion it is going to work. It is easy enough to make a small biotic bubble empty inside, it just requires some concentration to make it work longer than a couple of minutes. In my case "longer" is not an issue. An issue is "bigger".

'It is going to take me a while and removal of the medigel patch might cause you some discomfort,' I inform her, feeling a little silly with myself. "A discomfort" is probably not the best word in these circumstances. To my surprise, Tali is enduring my meddling with her injury with calm patience, but I cannot help wondering if under her mask she is not flinching with pain. I hurry up as best as I can and finish before I start feeling dizzy due to prolonged biotic use.

'You have some very impressive skills,' Tali says when I am finished and I nod.

'I have been equipped with a very specific biotic implant,' I explain and she tilts her head to the side with interest.

'Really? What kind of and implant? If it's okay to ask, of course.'

But before I can answer, the door to the med bay swoosh again and this time it is Jake Shepard who steps in, visibly in haste.

Tali, whose back is towards the door, turns around so swiftly, she almost knocks me off balance. I take a quick step backwards. For a fraction of a second I am wondering why her reaction has been so sudden, but then it dawns on me. I have been jumpy enough just sitting on the ship safe on the orbit. How is she supposed to be feeling, when she is fresh out of the fight?

'Shepard!' She says out loud, her modulated voice purring over his name in a very fond fashion. With certain consternation I realise that what I mistook for anxiety is in fact the same excitement I sometimes find myself in while around our Commander. I start to think it is more common between us females than I thought it could be and that regardless of our species.

'Hey, Tali, you okay?' Shepard asks and she gives him an eager nod. 'And Reegar, what of him?'

'Doctor Chakwas has been taking care of him back there,' the quarian points towards the clean room and Shepard's questioning look turns to me. I feel an overwhelming need to burst into giggles, when I realise that one simple look of his sends some excited shivers up my spine.

'It is the clean room, Commander, supposed to minimise the risks our quarian patient is exposed to,' I explain.

'Clever device,' he remarks and that makes Tali giggle softly. 'Any idea how long it's going to take? His quarian compatriots are already getting antsy about us picking him up and doing who-knows-what to his immune system,' Jake winks to us. 'As if we didn't have the best medic in the Galaxy aboard our ship...'

'Flattery isn't going to speed things up, Commander,' Doctor Chakwas' voice interrupts him. 'And I can hear you all from here pretty well, so please, take your jibber-jabber somewhere else, will you? I am trying to work here.'

'You heard that, ladies? Quit the chit-chat, as our specialist requests, will you?' I can swear there is no wider smile in the Galaxy than that of Jake Shepard.

'There's no need to quit, just keep it down,' sighs my supervisor from behind the walls of the clean room. Shepard winks at us and places his index finger on his lips. I make a little cough to hide the grin appearing on my face.

'In fact, Miss Zorah is free to leave whenever she wishes,' I say, significantly quieter than I normally would just to play along. 'We are finished with the treatment for now. If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know. Otherwise I shall only remind you to check with us tomorrow or earlier, if the need arises.'

The quarian nods to that.

'I think I'm going to be okay - well, as much as a quarian in a punctured envirosuit can be. If I ran a fever that I cannot handle, you'll be the first to hear,' she takes a little bow with her head and exits the med bay, leaving me and Jake alone; if one does not count Doctor Chakwas working on the other end on her patient.

'Do you have a moment to chat, Danielle?' The Commander asks and I feel my heart stopping just for one second, because I secretly fear what he might want to discuss. I clear my throat.

'Yes, Commander.'

'Would you mind if we left for the Starboard deck?'

'No... I guess I would not,' I say, even though inside me there is that panicked little voice screaming "I just don't want to talk about that!". I honestly hope I am wrong and the only thing he wants to talk about is, I do not know, maybe the weather conditions on Haestrom. He probably notices my uneasiness, because he gives me another one of his reassuring smiles and a hearty squeeze on my arm.

'Excellent! Shall we?'

He leads me out of the bay and towards the room on the side of the ship, where a gigantic window faces the vast emptiness of the Galaxy, currently enveloped in a blueish, eerie glow that tells me Normandy is still in the FTL speed. We stop in front of it and for a long moment none of us speaks a word. I half-consciously start to play with the tip of my braid, toying with it with my fingers in the exact same way I had yesterday when I was talking to Kelly on our psychiatric session.

Kelly... she probably told Shepard about my... incident with Jack. I release my braid and bite my lower lip. I kind of expected her to do so at some point, even though I have specifically asked her not to. I am not yet ready to deal with this and talking to Shepard is probably going to end up in some steps I do not yet want to take. Like finding out what really is the truth. What if... what if Jack is right? How can I live with the knowledge that all my life has been a lie?

I can feel Shepard's gaze on my reddening cheeks and almost without thinking I turn to him, my eyes meeting his concerned look.

'I am not ready for this, Commander,' I say out loud. He nods without a word and I stumble, not sure what should I tell him next. 'I... I think I know what you wanted to discuss. Kelly has told you, undoubtedly, it is her duty as the ship's psychologist-' I get another wordless nod. It does not get easier to proceed. 'I... I apologise for not talking to you personally, Commander, but... I was not ready to deal with this situation. I still am not and I want to request a few more days to... to make up my mind.'

'I'd give you a month or a year, if that was up to me,' he says suddenly. 'But it's a sensitive situation, Danielle. I need you up and running your drills flawlessly for the good of this mission. Can you promise me you can do that while you settle your mind?'

I hesitate. I obviously cannot give him my word on that, I know myself too well. My mind jumps to the moment from, what, less than an hour ago, when I stifled in the mess room, unable to take any action. If it was not for Garrus...

'I...' If I say "I cannot", will he immediately order my release from duty and leave me in the first port we enter, so I could go back to my dull, scientist work? I realise I would hate that, both for the shame and... perhaps I do enjoy the thrill that accompanies this mission just a little bit more than I dare to admit? 'I... do not know, Commander.'

He nods and turns to look out through the window at the dancing glow. I wait, uncertain and a little anxious, while he seems to be weighing some words in his mind.

'I wish I could help you, but I don't know how,' he says finally. 'It's not only a new situation for you, Danielle, it's new to me as well. I don't even know how to put myself in your position. See, I've never had a family like you did,' he looks at me and gives me a small smile. 'I cannot imagine what it feels like to be told what you heard. Still, I can help you with one thing for sure. I did some digging in the files Jack passed to me. I could tell you the truth right here and right now. The point is...' he pauses, obviously alarmed with the shock I realise is now painted on my face. So… he knows already? He gives me a moment to get accustomed to that sensation before he continues. 'The point is: do you want to know?'

Do I now?

For a second I want to scream "yes", I want him to tell me that Jack is just a bitter liar and that all my childhood memories are as true as I want them to be... and in the same moment I understand he might say I was wrong about everything and with that my life will be ruined forever.

The Commander reaches out and places his hand on my arm reassuringly.

'I'm not a shrink or anything,' he says lightly. 'But I think that eventually I do have something to say to make you feel a bit more at ease with this. Tell, me Danielle, does it really matter?'

I stare at him with confusion. What does he...?

'In the end, does it matter if the people who took care of you all your life are really your birth parents or not? I've checked the files, all right, and all I could find there was that they always looked after you and worried about you just like parents should. Isn't that right?'

It takes me a few moments, before the meaning of what he just said finally reaches me. And I know he is not wrong. When I look back, all I remember was genuine - the look my mother gave me when I brought stray kittens to our home, the warm voice of my father who sang lullabies to me and my siblings, all those Sunday dinners we made certain to spend together all the time I was on Demeter... I might have been fooled by Cerberus and their actions, but if there is one thing I can know for sure is how it feels to be loved.

I look up at Shepard's blue eyes and I smile, easily, for the first time during the last two days.

'I do not want to know, Commander,' I inform him calmly and he raises one of his eyebrows.

'For certain?'

'For certain, Commander. Thank you for telling me this. Now I can give you that promise.'

Jake looks at me in both relieved and somewhat prideful way, then he fondly puts his arm around me and I receive the closest thing to a hug that I can probably ever get from him. I can feel blush rising on my cheeks in a crimson wave and for one moment my head is spinning wildly... and then I suddenly realise, that while it is a really pleasant thing, to feel the warmth of another body - and a really well-shaped body at that - next to mine, it is just it. A pleasant feeling, nothing else. I release myself from his embrace, before it starts being awkward.

'Thank you for everything you said, Commander,' I say and he grins at me.

'Jake.'

'Excuse me...?'

'I know everyone on the ship keeps on telling you that. You really don't have to call us all by ranks, Danielle.'

The blush is coming back to my face, I just know it.

'Comm... Jake... I am just trying to be polite...'

'We're sort of a family here, all of us,' he interrupts me with a wink. 'Well, except Miranda maybe, but she's getting to that.'

It is hard to explain how easily Jake Shepard can turn this solemn, almost dramatic atmosphere around us into a light-hearted joke. I guess it is one of the reasons why he is such an amazing leader, too. He knows how to manipulate the moods of people around him to keep them happy. And to keep them faithful, too. For one, I am absolutely certain that I would not hesitate from doing anything for him - within acceptable boundaries, of course.

'Thank you, Jake,' I say and I mean it with my whole soul. 'Thank you... for the family.'

* * *

**Thank You for reading!**


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